When Russell Met Lilo or, When Dug Met Stitch
by Lear's Daughter
Summary: Dug, Russell, and Carl go on vacation to Hawaii and meet some unusual people.


Disclaimer: I don't own _Lilo and Stitch_ or _Up_.

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><p>Dug is very happy. Of course, Dug is usually very happy, but today he is even more very happy than usual. The reason he is so very happy today is because he, Master, and the Small Male Man (SMM) are going on vacation and they are leaving the pups behind.<p>

Dug loves his pups, he loves them muchly, but being a father is _work_. Lots and lots of work. They are so tumbly and rumbly, and also get themselves into lots and lots of trouble. They get that from their mother. But now Dug is getting to go away for seven whole rotations of the Earth, to a wonderful place called Hi-Why-Ee.

Dug is so excited at the thought that he chases his tail until he catches it. In punishment, his tail pinches his rear sharply, making him bark.

The SMM giggles. He is responsible for steering the dirigible while Master naps on the futon against the wall. "You're so silly, Dug," he says.

Dug races across the floor of the dirigible, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, to sniff the SMM's shoes and make sure that no other dogs came and claimed him while Dug was chasing his tail. Fortunately, the SMM still smells of dirt and Dug's own special odor.

"Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" Dug says, leaping up on the boy and almost knocking him over, sending the dirigible careening to the left for a long moment before the SMM manages to grab the steering wheel and jerk it straight.

"Russell! What on Earth are you doing?"

That's Master! Dug licks the SMM once on the face—he loves the SMM _almost_ as much as he loves Master—then hurries over to help Master climb to his feet by bouncing against his legs and barking excitedly.

"Master! You are awake! You are awake, Master!"

"Dug," Master grumbles, leaning heavily on his cane, "you're a nuisance."

"I'm okay, Mr. Frederickson," the SMM calls out, grinning at Master. "Dug bumped me, but I got us back on course."

"Are you keeping an eye out for clouds?" Master asks.

The SMM rolls his eyes. "Of course!"

"Birds?"

"Yes!"

"Sea monsters?"

"Sea monsters!" His eyes going wide, the SMM stands very straight, peering over the steering wheel at the clear sky and blue ocean with renewed interest. He bites his lip. "I don't see any sea monsters…"

Master chuckles.

The SMM's shoulders slump. "You were pulling my leg again, weren't you, Mr. Frederickson?"

"Would I do that?" Master says, still grinning.

Pleased by Master's good humor, Dug buts his head against Master's free hand. Taking the hint, Master scratches him behind the ears, just where Dug likes it most.

"Land!" the SMM says suddenly, making Dug jump and Master stop scratching. "I see land!"

"It's not Australia, is it?" Master says.

"Don't be silly," the SMM scoffs. He pulls his shiny TKS—TGS? GTS? Something like that, Dug can never quite remember what it is called—out of his pocket and squints at it, looks at the distant shoreline, then looks at the device again. "It's Hawaii!"

Hi-Why-Ee! Dug races to the largest window and squashed his nose against the cold glass to get the best possible view. The island is very green, especially against the backdrop of the very blue ocean.

"You'd better let me take over from here, Russell," Master says.

"I know how to land!" the SMM insists, but reluctantly hands over the wheel when Master just looks at him.

The dirigible doesn't so much land as come to a ponderous halt above a bare patch of sand. Master lowers the rope ladder and begins the slow climb down, grunting and groaning with every step. The SMM carries Dug, clutching him so tightly Dug can barely breathe, until finally Dug leaps out of his grip to land nose-first in the warm sand.

"It is warm!" he exclaims, struggling to his feet, his paws scrambling for purchase. "It is warm, Master!"

"Of course it is, you ridiculous mutt," Master says, using his cane to steady himself.

The SMM drops the last foot from the ladder and dashes toward the water, beaming even as sand flies behind him with each step. Master follows more sedately, shaking his head, a reluctant grin tugging at his lips.

Of course it is Dug who first notices that they are not alone. Dug is an excellent tracker, after all. His sharp eyes note the many footprints in the sand, and his keen nose easily picks up the scent of at least four other creatures. Plus, there's a car in the parking lot.

"People!" Dug says, bounding forward until he's beside Master, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. "There are people!"

"It's a public beach," Master says. "Look, you can see surfers out on the water."

"I want to surf," the SMM declares excitedly. He's toed off his shoes and is now standing ankle-deep in the ocean, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Master raises his eyebrows. "You might want to change into a swimsuit first, Russell."

"Oh. Right!" And with that, the SMM spins on his heel, charging back toward the dirigible to change.

"What are _we_ going to do, Master?" Dug says, spinning in a circle, his tail wagging vigorously.

"_I_ am going to sit on the sand and enjoy the heat," Master replies. "You're going to do whatever dogs do on the beach."

Dug tilts his head. "What _do_ dogs do on the beach?"

Master shrugs. "Go…run or something."

Dug would rather stay with Master, of course, but sometimes Master wants some time away from Dug (Dug is never sure exactly why), and so he obeys.

He wanders along the edge of the water for a while, until he finds a nice indentation in the sand and sits. He pants as he looks out at the water, watching the surfers. After a while he lies down, his head on his paws, and falls asleep.

He wakes to a strange smell drifting on the wind. It's an odor he's never smelled before, sharp like burning metal and sweet like an ice cream cone all at once. Instantly on his guard, he springs to his feet, nose pointing unerringly in the direction from which the smell is coming.

He relaxes with a vague feeling of disappointment when all he can see are the surfers from earlier, lounging on a beach towel and fishing through a picnic basket. There's a young man and woman, a girl about the same age as the SMM, and…is that a dog?

Crouching low to the ground, Dug begins to work his way closer, determined to get a better view. From a distance, the creature looks almost _blue_.

There's a sand dune blocking his line of sight, so he pounces forward, his paws digging into the sand, and peers over the top. He can see the thing better now and…if that's a dog, it's the strangest dog he's ever seen (including the SMM's next door neighbor's Chihuahua). It really is blue, an electric blue, with strange ears and strange claws and…actually, maybe it's a koala.

Whatever it is, Dug doesn't want it anywhere near Master and the SMM. He growls deep in his throat, his hackles rising—only to freeze when the creature whirls to stare at the sand dune, as if somehow it could hear Dug from over forty feet away.

It must have made a noise, because suddenly the humans with it sit up straight, the girl slinging her arm around the creature's furry blue shoulders.

The creature shrugs her off and begins to prowl toward Dug's sand dune. Dug gathers his courage and leaps over the dune, baring his teeth. It takes effort to still his tail, which usually wags 24/7.

The girl, who had been looking a bit anxious, rolls her eyes. "Aw, Stitch! It's just a dog."

The newly-named Stitch relaxes a bit, but continues across the sand—walking on its hind legs—until it's only two or three feet from Dug.

"Dog?" Stitch says, cocking his head.

"Hi," says Dug.

Stitch's eyes go very wide. "You…talk?"

"Oh, yes!" Dug says, deciding that he likes this odd not-dog. He moves forward and sniffs its feet, ignoring the way it growls and steps back. "My old master was mean but smart. He was a very smart master, and he made me this collar so I could speak!"

"Uh, is that dog talking?" the young woman says, eyeing Dug in consternation.

"Don't mind Dug."

That's Master's voice! Dug's tail begins to wag furiously as he races to Master, who is lumbering toward them, leaning heavily on his cane. The SMM walks with him, ready to assist Master should he need it—Master needs assistance sometimes, though he'd never admit it.

"He's a strange dog, but he's harmless," Master adds, coming to a stop close to the other humans. He peers through his glasses at Stitch. He takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes, puts them back on. "Your dog looks a little odd, too, or are my eyes playing tricks on me?"

"Oh, he's not a dog," the girl proclaims. "He's an _alien_."

"Lilo!" the young woman—the girl's sister?—hisses. "We do not go around telling strangers that Stitch is an alien."

Lilo's eyebrows draw together. "But he _is_ an alien."

"That is so cool!" the SMM says, leaning over to look Stitch in the eye.

"Is that your dog?" Lilo asks the SMM, pointing at Dug.

The SMM looks up, catches sight of Lilo, and goes very red. "I—uh—I," he stammers.

Lilo frowns. "Are you okay?"

"He's fine," Master says, smiling widely. "Just a little tongue tied."

"I—uh—Dug is Mr. Fredrickson's dog," the SMM says, forcing the words out.

"Oh." Lilo scratches Dug's head, making him whine in pleasure. She giggles. "He's funny."

The SMM swallows hard. Master looks even more amused. Dug isn't sure what's happening.

"Do you—uh—would you like to go for a swim?"

Lilo looks at the SMM for a long moment before shrugging. "Sure. Come on, we can feed the fish a peanut butter sandwich!" She snatches two sandwiches from the picnic basket and then is off, leaving the SMM to huff and puff as he sprints after her.

The young woman snorts. "He likes her, doesn't he?"

"This is going to be a long vacation," Master says wearily.

"Squirrel!" Dug says.

Stitch pulls a ray gun out of nowhere and a second later the squirrel is toast.

"Wow," Dug says.

"Cool, yeah?" says Stitch, and spins the gun on one clawed finger.

"I am going to like Hi-Why-Ee," Dug decides.


End file.
